The Wedding Day
by am4ever
Summary: We all want to know...how did the wedding day of Isobel and Dickie play out?
1. Chapter 1

_**The Wedding Day**_

"Mrs. Field! Mrs. Field!"

The elderly cook looked up as Lord Merton's valet and now the butler of Crawley House entered the kitchen.

"Yes, Mr. Andrews? What is it?" she asked kindly.

"They're just coming now," he said with a smile. "Has Emma returned?"

"Yes, she just went up to lay out Mrs. Crawley…rather…Lady Merton's things for tonight," Mrs. Field replied with a small chuckle. "I suppose it will take some getting used to…calling her Lady Merton."

"I'm sure she will forgive any missteps," he answered, straightening his tie. "Now, I am up to let them in. I'm sure His Lordship will be tired so make sure Emma is ready to bring the tea tray up to his room."

"Of course."

"Right…here we go!"

* * *

"Welcome home, milord," Andrews said proudly, opening the car door as Lord Merton stepped out with a smile.

"Thank you, Andrews," Dickie replied. Though he had been living in Crawley House for the past four weeks, this was the first time he truly felt as though he was "home."

"And welcome home, milady," Andrews said.

Dickie stepped forward and offered his hand to Isobel who took it willingly. She stepped out of the car and held tight to her new husband's fingers, nodding her appreciation to Mr. Andrews.

"You have all been such a large help in planning today, Andrews. We cannot thank you enough," Isobel said.

"Not at all, milady. It has been a pleasure," he responded.

He followed the couple in to the front entrance, taking their coats and gloves, as Isobel turned to Dickie.

"I'm sure you're tired," she said quietly, placing a hand on his forearm. "Would you like to lie down for a bit?"

"Actually, I feel quite well. It must be all the excitement from today," he replied, his smile widening.

Her cheeks reddened slightly as she looked down. "Yes…well…I just don't want you to overtire yourself. Perhaps we can change and then we'll come down for tea…will that suit, Andrews?"

"Perfectly, milady," Andrews replied with a slight bow. "I will go inform Mrs. Field and then be up, milord."

"Very good. Thank you, Andrews."

The Butler took his leave, as Dickie took Isobel's elbow to lead her towards the stairs. "I know you're worried…but I truly do feel much better than I did before coming here. Dr. Clarkson's diet and your care have done wonders."

Isobel stopped midway up the stairs to turn and look at him. His color had improved dramatically and he had gained back the weight he had lost under Larry and Amelia's horrid regime of soup and toast at all meals. She cautiously ran her fingers down his cheek and allowed her hand to rest on his shoulder.

"And I am so glad of it…but you cannot help my worrying a bit over you," she answered.

He reached up to take her hand, kissing the back of her fingers. "Of course not. As long as you allow me to take care of you as I'm able…"

She laughed softly and nodded. "All right. I suppose I can agree to that."

They continued up the stairs, hand in hand, until they came to the doorway of her bedroom.

"I'll meet you downstairs soon, hm?" Standing on her toes, she kissed his cheek and squeezed his fingers gently. But before she could open her bedroom door, he pulled her back.

She looked up at him, a bit confused. "Dickie…are you all right?"

"Not quite." His grin confused her even more until he leaned down and stole a sweet kiss. "Ah…now that is much better."

"Cheeky devil," she whispered before pushing him towards his room and entering hers.

He shook his head and with a sigh entered his room at Crawley House…now his home…no, their home.

* * *

"And you're sure everything is settled?"

"Yes, milord. Emma and Mrs. Field finished placing the flowers when you were down to tea this evening."

"Very good," Dickie said, his nerves increasing a bit. "I do hope she likes them."

Andrews helped Dickie on with his dressing gown, replying, "I am sure she will, milord. Mrs. Field said that they are beautiful flowers and in her ladyship's favorite colors."

"Splendid. I appreciate your helping to arrange this."

"Of course, milord. Will there be anything else I can get you tonight?"

Andrews stepped back and clasped his hands in front as Dickie stole a glimpse at his turned down bed.

"No…no, that will be all for tonight," Dickie replied. "Thank you again, Andrews."

"Good night, milord."

"Good night."

Dickie sat slowly on the end of the bed, not sure whether or not he should get in as he usually did or if he should chance going to see Isobel. She usually came by before she retired each night, bringing him a fresh glass of water and some pills Dr. Clarkson has prescribed to take in the evening.

He chuckled at how she would always fuss over the blankets and pillows, making sure he was warm and comfortable. And before he could drift off to sleep, she would kiss him on the cheek and remind him where the bell was to ring for her if he needed her during the night.

But now, as he looked towards the top of the bed, with covers turned down and pillows lined up and ready for the Baron to climb in, he couldn't bring himself to do so. For the past four weeks, their routine had become so normal, so comfortable. While some may have gossiped as to his staying at Crawley House before they married, they both knew nothing immoral had transpired. He was glad of it really…not wanting to ever compromise Isobel's good reputation or character.

But tonight…tonight was different. Tonight…she was his wife. And tonight, he longed to simply hold his wife in his arms when he fell asleep. He just prayed that Isobel would agree to it…for the former Lady Merton had not.

" _But Isobel has shown and spoken her love in so many ways,_ " he thought. _"Surely that means she will agree that we should stay in the same room from now on…."_

" _Won't she?"_

* * *

"Ah Andrews, is His Lordship ready to retire?" Isobel asked, meeting the Butler as she climbed the last of the stairs to the second floor landing of Crawley House.

"Yes, milady, though he does not seem quite so tired this evening. I must agree that the days' events have invigorated him quite a bit," Andrews replied.

Isobel nodded and smiled tiredly. "I am so glad. It seems a few activities throughout the day helps to bolster his energy level…though it does seem rather contradictory."

However, Andrews knew it was not just a few events each day that had helped the Baron take a turn for the better. Rather, it was the care, concern and love of the woman standing in front of him that gave the ill Baron motivation to thrive. Though, having come to know Lady Merton quite well in the past month, the Butler knew she would never admit _she_ was the reason her husband was looking so well these days.

"I've sent Emma and Mrs. Field to bed…would you mind locking up?" she asked, turning towards her room.

"Not at all…and may I again offer my most heartfelt congratulations, milady. It was a wonderful day," Andrews said with a slight bow.

Isobel agreed, the twinkle in her eyes evident. "Yes, I do believe it was, wasn't it? Thank you so much, Andrews."

The Butler waited until she had turned the corner before he descended the stairs…though he almost wished he stayed to listen to her reaction upon opening her bedroom door. Lord Merton's surprise was sure to please her….Andrews was sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Good Heavens!"

Isobel opened her bedroom door to find that a half dozen vases filled with her favorite flowers were scattered throughout the room. The lights were dimmed, the embers dancing in the fireplace and a glass of champagne sitting on her vanity.

She was so stunned that she was unable to move, her hand stuck on the knob as she took in the beautiful scene. But after her momentary shock wore off, she chanced stepping forward, not wanting to disrupt the aura that someone had taken such pains to create.

Her first thought was Dickie….but surely not! He had been with her the entire evening, only leaving her fifteen minutes ago to change before bed. Even had he enlisted Andrews' help, the two could not have put this all together in such a short time. And how had all the flowers come in without her seeing?

She fingered the delicate petals of the roses on her vanity, leaning forward to smell their fresh fragrance, while her mind still whirled with questions.

"I do hope it is not too much," a soft voice called from the doorway.

She spun around quickly, finding Dickie shifting nervously from side to side. His hands were clasped behind his back and he couldn't seem to look her in the eye.

"Dickie…but how…?"

He took a small step forward and observed the room. Emma, Andrews and Mrs. Field had captured exactly what he wanted…and he was so grateful. He smiled as he turned back to finally face her.

"I had a bit of help, I'll admit. I wanted to do something to thank you and the staff helped to make it a reality."

"Thank me? Whatever for?" she asked, confusion etched across her face. She took a few steps toward him, meeting him in the center of the room.

"For…well for everything really," he said, wiping a hand over his hair. "For taking care of me…and saving me from Larry and Amelia's deceitful ways…"

"Dickie…we've already talked about that. You don't need to thank me…it was the right thing to do…and something I know you would have done for me, had I been in the same situation," she reminded him, reaching forward to gently touch his arm.

He still struggled with how horridly his own son and daughter-in-law had treated him…nearly sending him to his grave just to get their hands on his money. But being here now, with Isobel as his wife, made him forget just how hurt he was by his son's disgraceful actions.

"I know…but I still wanted to thank you…properly," he replied, his eyes now meeting hers, "and to let you know how happy I am...to be here with you."

"Even though you've given up Cavenham for it?"

"You know that is of no matter to me anymore," he answered seriously, taking her hand in his and squeezing her fingers tight. "All that matters is living out what life I have left with you by my side."

He saw the tears well in her eyes but she quickly sniffed them away, looking to the side. He wanted to tell her it was all right to show her emotions…that she did not always have to be the strong one. But before he could gather her close, she pulled her hand away.

"Speaking of keeping you safe and healthy, it is time for your pills. Why not take them here? I'll go fetch a glass of water," she said, motioning for him to sit on the end of her bed.

He hung his head but did as she said, wishing he had not ruined a romantic moment by making her upset. He saw her wipe away a tear before disappearing in to the washroom.

 _Damn,_ he thought, not sure how he was going to rectify this situation.

But it was as if nothing happened when she returned with a glass of water. A large smile graced her face as she handed him the glass and two pills, stepping back and clasping her hands in front until he finished.

Sighing, he took the pills and an extra sip of water, earning him a sparkle in the eye of his wife. She was always reminding him to drink more water…it would help keep his system regulated apparently. He chuckled to himself before finishing the water and setting the glass on her side table.

"There you are, Nurse. All finished."

She laughed lightly and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Thank you. I know you hate them but I think they have made a difference, don't you?"

"Mmm….perhaps. Though I think there are many things that have made a difference. I feel as though I'm well on the mend since coming here."

"Do you really mean that? Or are you saying that just to make me feel better?" she asked with a smirk.

"No, I do mean it," he replied with a solid nod. "I have far more energy. And I want to get out…to do things…spend time reading, walking, visiting with friends…and to enjoy each moment of the day with _you_."

She blushed and looked down. He reached out and caught both of her hands in his, tugging them gently until her eyes lifted to meet his.

"I mean it, Isobel. You have helped me gain back what time I was losing. And I do thank you for it. I don't know that I can ever show you how much I appreciate your care…or how much I truly love you."

"Dickie…" she began softly, gently squeezing his fingers, "…you owe me nothing. Having you here is all I could ever want."

"Truly?"

"Truly," she said definitively, taking a small step forward and kissing his cheek once more. Leaning close to his ear, she whispered, "And I love you too."

He grinned as she pulled away. Hearing the words come from her lips was all he needed to regain his courage…to remember the real reason he had wanted to see her tonight.

"Isobel…I wonder…since we are husband and wife now…" he began, his voice faltering as he tried to find the right words to say.

"Yes?" she prodded, turning around so that she could sit next to him on the end of the bed.

But he remained silent, not wanting to start their first evening as a married couple out on the wrong foot.

She knew he was worried about the end, having met with his lawyer only days before. But she had hoped any conversation about his will and what would happen after the disease finally claimed him could wait for awhile. Reaching over, she took his hand and gently rubbed her thumb over his knuckles.

"I'm sure you're tired. Can't it wait until morning?" she asked kindly.

But he shook his head forcefully, surprising her with his strong reaction. "No…no…I must know tonight."

"All right…"

He heard the confusion in her tone and sighed, knowing it was his own fault for not having discussed it with her before now.

"I am sorry, Isobel. I suppose this is a bit awkward…though it should not be."

He turned to face her, finding her smile gone, replaced by a look of pure concern and perhaps a bit of fear.

"You see…we've discussed how the former Lady Merton and I did not quite get along…how we were ill suited."

She nodded but remained silent.

"And so, as you can imagine, we did not spend much time together. Oh yes, we went to events and dinners, putting on as though we were a happily married couple, but as soon as we were behind closed doors, the truth revealed itself."

He shook his head, wishing there were an easier way to ask her…

"I…I suppose I got very used to it and did not mind at all after a few years. It was normal for us to go our separate ways after dinner and not see each other until the next morning. To be blunt, we were the typical upper class marriage…having produced two sons…and leaving it at that."

It took a moment but her eyes widened a bit, having now realized what he was saying about his former, less than intimate, marriage.

"Oh…I see…"she said slowly, not sure what she should think. Why was he telling her all this now?

"And that is why I was unsure of whether or not…well…I suppose I did not want to be too forward…I did not want to expect that _we_ might stay together…"

 _Oh Dickie…_ she thought, suddenly understanding what was on his mind.

How could he think she did not want him? On the contrary, she wanted to be with him desperately…to show him all the love and care she could…to make up for all those horrible years he lived without knowing true love.

She quickly stopped him, putting her hands over his to calm his nervous fidgeting.

"Dickie…I never meant for you to feel as though I haven't wanted you to stay…with me….after we married," she replied slowly. "I only supposed you would want your own space…you haven't felt well and I didn't want you to feel obligated…"

But before she could utter another word, his lips were on hers, his hands coming to rest on her waist as he pulled her close. It was surely the most passionate kiss they'd ever shared…and one he hoped to replicate often. If anything, he wanted her to know by action, rather than words, that he loved her fully. And being with her was never an obligation; rather, an honor.

He slowly pulled away, brushing his lips against her forehead before hugging her tight.

"Isobel…I have never loved anyone as I love you. And if you're sure, then I can think of nothing better than falling asleep with you in my arms this night and every night."

She pushed away slightly, placing both hands on his chest and smiling up at him. "And you're not doing this out of some sense of duty?"

He shook his head and chuckled. "My dear, I think we've quite overcome that notion, don't you?"

A small breath of relief escaped her lips as she returned his smile. "Yes, I suppose we have…which means I am going to hold you to your promise, Lord Merton. I expect you in this room every night."

His grin widened. "That is a promise I am more than willing to keep."

She laughed softly while sliding off the edge of the bed to stand.

"Well then…since that is sorted out…why not let me change out of this dress and you choose which side to sleep on, hm?" she asked with a wink.

His eyes widened in slight shock, but he quickly agreed. The thought of seeing Isobel in anything but a modest dress or evening gown was overwhelming to the elder Baron. As she slipped in to the washroom to change, he stood and paced around the perimeter of the bed a few times, hoping to relieve some of the tension suddenly coursing through his muscles. He hadn't felt such nervous anticipation in years!

He stopped mid-pace, turning to look at the bed from the fireplace. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable, imagining she must be just as anxious as he was about this. Seeing two books and her reading glasses on the left side table, he determined she must sleep on that side. He quickly made up his mind and laid his dressing gown on the bench at the foot of the bed. Climbing under the covers on the right side, he tried to busy himself by picking up the lone book on his side table to read.

But it was to no avail. He hadn't even read a paragraph before his mind was wandering, his thoughts racing about what life would be like now that he was married to Isobel Crawley…rather, Isobel Crawley Grey. The small clock on Isobel's table ticked loudly in the quiet room, as Lord Merton became lost in his thoughts. His eyes drifted to the dancing flames of the fireplace, their cadence seeming to hypnotize the Baron in place.

"Dickie, are you all right?"

He blinked instantly, the flames of the fire releasing his view to turn towards the voice of his wife. He hadn't even heard her come in she had been so quiet…or rather, he had been so lost in thought.

But now anything he'd been thinking about…it was suddenly of yesterday. For the vision of Isobel standing by her vanity, dressed in a long nightgown and light green, satin robe, was the only thing his mind could now comprehend.

"Dickie?" she asked again, the concern evident in her voice as he sat still as a statue, staring at her wide-eyed.

He cleared his throat and shook his head slightly. "Forgive me, my dear. I suppose I was in dream land."

"Are you sure? You look quite dazed," she replied, coming over to inspect his color. She placed a hand on his cheek and moved it towards his forehead to feel for a temperature. But he quickly caught her wrist, pulling her hand off of his face so he could kiss her fingers.

"I'm simply dazed by the woman standing in front of me," he said softly.

Her breath hitched as a pink blush crept upon her cheeks. She looked down and cleared her throat.

"Thank you," she whispered, suddenly feeling very shy in front of her husband. Pulling her hand from his, she looked up to offer him a small smile. "Let me get these pins out of my hair….or I'm afraid I'll regret it in the morning."

He chuckled. "I can only imagine."

She moved back to the vanity while he set the forgotten book back on the side table. Looking back, he was amazed at how quickly her fingers worked, releasing her long hair from its heavy up-do. As she brushed the hair out and quickly tied it back, he couldn't believe how she had managed all these years without a ladies maid. With her work at the hospital and various charities, always checking in on Violet, and now caring for him, he couldn't believe she actually had time for herself each and every day.

Isobel found him lost in thought again a few moments later. She imagined there was a lot on his mind…his illness, the boys, their quick marriage, his new residence at Crawley House….it was all sure to catch up with him. She decided to leave him to his thoughts and quietly came to her side of the bed, turning down the covers.

He came to life once more, looking over at her.

"I never realized how much you do…" he said, his eyes suddenly becoming misty.

Surprised, she stood straight, her hands still holding to the quilt. "How do you mean?"

"You do all of this…everything…all on your own…no maid," he said, gesturing around the room and settling his gaze on the vanity. "You've never had anyone to help you and yet you still do so much to care for everyone else."

She scoffed, pulling back the quilt, and sitting on her side of the bed. "I've never needed a maid before. And I don't know that I would have use for one now. Emma is enough of a help."

"What I mean…Isobel, has anyone ever given you credit for it all? For how you keep this house, the hospital…how you care for the family…me…and all on your own?" he asked pointedly, reaching over to grasp her arm.

She shook her head forcefully. "I don't need any credit. It is how I want to live my life."

"But surely you deserve time for yourself…" he replied, gently squeezing her arm. "My dear…"

"Dickie," she interrupted, turning to face him, "I want you here. I want to work, I want to keep this house, and I want to look after my family. And the most important person in that family is you. I love you…and I need no thanks for that."

He could only shake his head in utter disbelief, not understanding what he had done to deserve such a woman. Reaching down, he took her hand in his and sighed.

"I am a very lucky man," he said softly, squeezing her fingers and looking up to catch her smile.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'd say I'm the lucky one."

Turning around, she shut off her bedside lamp and pulled her legs up on the bed. Her nerves were beginning to get the better of her, even more so as Dickie followed suit and turned his lamp off, leaving them in darkness, save for the dim light of the fire.

Isobel cautiously pulled the covers up over her legs, taking her time to try and dispel some of her anxiety. She began smoothing out the edge of the quilt now covering her lap when she felt Dickie's lips on her temple. Her eyes closed and her fingers stalled as his lips now moved to her cheek.

His touch was so gentle, yet so powerful. Isobel could only imagine that he could hear how fast her heart seemed to be beating. She heard him shifting closer, felt his lips now on the corner of her mouth.

"I do love you, Isobel," he whispered, reaching up and turning her face towards his.

Even in the dim light, she could see the sincerity in his eyes. With a slight shake in her hand, she reached up and cupped his cheek.

"And I love you," she whispered back.

His forehead pressed against hers as their lips met in a sweet, gentle kiss. This was all he had ever wanted…to simply love and be loved by Isobel Crawley…and to call her his wife. And though their time together may be short, it was all he needed to make his life complete.

"My dear, I may not be able to…" he began, only to be hushed by his wife as she kissed him gently once more.

"Just hold me….please…" she said softly, wrapping her arms around him.

With her face nestled in his neck, he gripped her tightly to his core. And while he reveled in feeling her against him, Isobel herself was close to tears…tears of joy over feeling so safe and so incredibly happy. After Matthew died, she doubted she would ever know true joy again. But now…now she was being held close by the man she loved…and she could not ask for anything more.

Dickie released his grip, allowing his hands to travel down her sides and rest on her hips. Pulling back, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Shall we get some sleep?"

She laughed softly, blinking back her tears. "I daresay we should."

"And you're not upset that we haven't…"

"Dickie…" she said, pressing a finger to his lips, "…I simply want to fall asleep in your arms."

He gently pulled her finger away and leaned in, capturing her lips with his. She sighed contently, placing her hands on his chest as he wrapped her in his arms once more. He eased them down on to the pillows, promising himself that one day, he would be strong enough to show Isobel how much he loved her. For now, as she lay wrapped in his arms, he realized he wanted to be a husband to her in every possible way, even if she never expected it of him.

"Goodnight, Lady Merton," he whispered, kissing her gently as she looked up at him.

"Goodnight, Lord Merton," she whispered back, stroking his cheek before pulling his lips down to hers once more. "And Happy Wedding Day."

 **~*~*~The End~*~*~**


End file.
